I have the unlucky distinction of being one of the first, of everyone I know, to have kids. So, that means I battled biting, struggled through potty-training and worried that my daughter was never going to speak, all by myself, with very little advice.
Well, I always had the Grandmas. Frankly, I probably wouldn’t have used the words battled, worried and struggled if it hadn’t been for the Grandmas in the first place. I never cared that my kid was still wearing diapers at 2 and only said a few words at 2 1/2, because the doctors and experts said it was fine. There’s no expert more expert, however, than a Grandma. So if the Grandmas thought it was strange that my darling, who could sign full sentences, didn’t talk, I would find it slowly start to seep into my nightmares and tossings and turnings.
Now we’re at an age where most of us who are going to, have had our kids. And my friends all have kids ranging in age from newborns to 8 year olds. I’m the only person I know with a Tween. Yes, I think it deserves capitalization. And not only do I have a Tween, but I have one who is on her third boyfriend this school year.
And there is no one to give me advice.
I have figured out a few things on my own. I figured out to tell my husband these little developments as they happen so as to avoid a stroke when she hits 16. I figure that clueing him in little by little is going to take the bite out of what’s going to happen. Because, let’s face it, we’re a generation that remembers our youth and hopefully learned from some of our parents’ mistakes, not to mention our own. We know from experience that all teenagers lie. And if for some crazy reason you’re doubting it, let me repeat. ALL teenagers lie.
Lots of teenagers experiment with lots of things; some of them are things that we did and some of them are outside of our understanding. So I’m preparing my husband now, because while all teenagers may lie, not many of them are good at it. If you’re paying attention you will catch your kid in a lie. And we will catch ours. How do I know? Because we’re already catching her in the little ones.
I think I’m going out of order. I should stop now and say that I have a very,very good kid. She’s great and we’re very lucky. She’s smart and pretty and fairly well-behaved. She’s funny and witty and bright and friendly, but she’s a kid and she’s going through what all the other kids are going through. Puberty.
Being the first girl of a first girl, my precocious daughter has pretty much always been a Tween. While other kids were satisfied with Os and soy milk boxes, my daughter wanted tea sandwiches with the crust trimmed. At three, she called the neighbor on her Fisher Price phone to ask her if she wanted to come over. After a few ah-huhs and nods as she paced around the living room she said “Okay, well I have to go. See you soon. Bring pizza and beer. Goodbye.”
So, needless to say, I’m a little leery of dating. And it’s not that it’s really dating. They don’t go anywhere. I don’t think they actually touch each other, but like I said my daughter has always been the precocious one.
Remember in Juno when the step mom discourages the dad from beating up Paulie Bleeker for knocking up his daughter? Remember how she says, “You know it wasn’t his idea.”?
It will always be my kid’s idea. Whatever trouble/issue/problem she has in in life, it will always have been her idea. That’s just the kinda kid I have. God love her.
I so wish someone else were going through this first.
Well we thought we were going to get through the rest of the…..week/month/season with no more injuries. Today George walked into our bedroom where my husband and I had been discussing my new classes and figuring out pricing, etc. G. just came in to ask if we were done talking. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t seem scared or upset. Yet he had bloody streaks across his face.
As my daughter gets older I find my hopes and desires as a parent and my yoga crashing into one another. This is a tough one for me. I am now the mom of a tween, but she’s soon to be a teen. As the months count down I’m really digging deep and reflecting on what yoga teaches me about parenting. But I guess, it’s more than yoga. It’s a compilation of wisdom that I call my belief system. 
